


(your lips like fire) ignite my gasoline

by TasteOfHoney



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, Couch Sex, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, and how it takes effort to maintain a good relationship, and some, but mostly just, even when ur hella in love w/ each other, idk not enough people write about how even the best couples have to work at things, including a good sex life, so thats kinda what this is lmao, they married and in love and it's wholesome kay, with some like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 09:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20637254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TasteOfHoney/pseuds/TasteOfHoney
Summary: Something sparks in her veins, like a wildfire after a drought, overpowering and all consuming. She presses closer, suddenly needing more, and before she's even made a conscious decision to move she finds herself in Yang's lap. Her wife's fingers press into her hips, firm and eager and far less restrained than usual, and she realises that she wasn't the only one feeling a little desperate.





	(your lips like fire) ignite my gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> been a while since i posted anything so have some cute domestic bee smut :P
> 
> i ain't got anything more to say so... enjoy!

Blake shifts to get more comfortable on the sofa, trying to focus on the film that they're meant to be watching. She and Yang formed an unspoken agreement that Friday night was movie night about a year into their marriage—two years ago now—and since then it's become part of their routine.

However, where normally there would be an ebb and flow of casual conversation, today there is silence. And where Yang's arm would normally rest around her shoulders, today it remains firmly at her wife's side. The inches between them seem like an insurmountable distance, and for the first time in as long as she can remember Blake doesn't feel as though they’re truly _together_.

She misses the way things used to be— the way she would absent-mindedly take Yang's hand while they watched television like this, or the way Yang would sometimes fall asleep with her head in Blake's lap after a particularly tiring day. Somewhere along the journey here they lost something, she thinks. Not the love—never that—but some of the effortless, instinctive affection that flowed so freely at the beginning.

It's hard when things are so busy for both of them, though. The White Fang has occupied so much of Blake's time, with more facets to every problem than she wants to count as well as endless reams of paperwork and negotiations to be taken care of, and Yang's own foray into engineering has consumed most of her wife's free hours too. They don't fight, or even argue, but she can feel them slowly drifting apart, and she refuses to let that happen after everything they had to fight through to be with each other.

The bond between them is still there, just as strong and immutable as ever, not gone but simply buried— it just needs to be brought back to the surface.

After a moment's hesitation Blake reaches out to rest her hand over her wife's in the space between them—a small first step but a first step nonetheless—and she can sense the movement as Yang turns to look at her even as she keeps her own gaze trained on the screen. It takes a few seconds, but when Yang weaves their fingers together it feels as natural as it did the first time they held hands like this.

Slowly, Blake closes the distance between them, leaning into Yang's side and soaking in the warmth of her body heat. Her wife's arm cautiously comes to rest across her shoulders, and Blake can't help the smile that curls at the corners of her mouth. She knows it'll take more than just cuddling to fix things completely, but it's a good start, and right now she's just happy to know that this closeness is still there if they want to recreate it.

She's given up trying to pay attention to the film, but it's mostly just a relief that for once neither of them have anywhere urgent to be or anything pressing to do. She turns slightly to face Yang, and there's a long beat where she just takes in the sight of her wife again. Yang is beautiful, and Blake never forgot that, but she thinks that perhaps she did begin to take it for granted.

She reaches up to trace Yang's features, pausing to appreciate _everything_. The line of her jaw, the shade of her eyes, the softness of her skin. Tentatively, Blake leans in to kiss her, and she feels the briefest moment of panic— that they won't quite fit together anymore, that Yang will pull away. But then their lips meet, and it's totally different to the fleeting, impersonal pecks that they give each other every morning before leaving for work. This is a proper kiss, and it draws a sigh of relief from Blake's throat.

Something sparks in her veins, like a wildfire after a drought, overpowering and all consuming. She presses closer, suddenly needing _more_, and before she's even made a conscious decision to move she finds herself in Yang's lap. Her wife's fingers press into her hips, firm and eager and far less restrained than usual, and she realises that she wasn't the only one feeling a little desperate.

It's been far too long since they last kissed like this—with real passion and devotion, or even just no interruptions—and when they finally separate they're both panting, breathless but satisfied.

“Blake,” Yang whispers, and after so much time without it just hearing her name spoken that way is overwhelming. Her wife's voice is low and breathy and irresistible, and in an instant Blake is kissing her again, pressing her back against the sofa. When oxygen becomes a requirement once more she retreats, but only far enough to catch her breath and press their foreheads together.

“I missed you,” Blake says, and it comes out smaller and shakier than she intended.

“I missed you too,” Yang says, every other word punctuated with a kiss like she physically can’t stay apart from Blake long enough to finish speaking. “So much.”

A stab of longing catches in Blake’s chest before settling between her legs, and she tugs urgently at the hem of Yang’s shirt. Her wife helps her pull it over her head, and then Blake is pulling back to absorb the sight of the woman she loves half-naked, flushed and eager, her pupils blown wide with desire. If she’s right it must have been months since they were last intimate—it certainly feels like it’s been that long—and her throat goes dry as she’s reminded of what it is to want someone with every fibre of your being.

Yang frees Blake of her own shirt in mere moments and this time Blake doesn’t wait before lying back along the length of the sofa and pulling Yang on top of her. She knows from experience that when they haven’t made love in a while Yang likes to give, and right now she isn’t in the mood to argue.

When their mouths meet again it’s clumsy and rushed, but there’s too much need buzzing under her skin for her to want to slow down. Part of her wishes that Yang’s hair was loose so she could weave her fingers through it, but the ponytail looks good on her wife—mature in an unreasonably attractive way—and she can’t bring herself to mind.

Her fingers dig into Yang’s shoulder blades instead, pulling her down, and then there’s bare skin against her own and she loses track of everything else. Her world narrows to the heat of Yang’s kiss, the gasp of pleasure as she brings their hips into alignment, the sensation of Yang’s fingertips brushing across her navel as she undoes the button of Blake’s trousers, and she already knows she won’t last long.

Yang’s hand slips past the band of her underwear, and then there’s sweet pressure right where Blake needs it, two fingers filling her and a thumb against her clit pulling a moan from deep in her chest as she feels the echo of release begin to build. Gods, she’d forgotten how incredible this could be.

“You feel so good, baby.” The sensation of Yang’s lips brushing against her ear sends a shiver down Blake’s spine, and red lines form on her wife’s back in the wake of her nails when Yang’s fingers curl inside of her, pushing her even closer to the edge. “Please, I want to see you come for me.”

It’s a request—a plea—and Blake can’t resist it. She doesn’t care that it should be embarrassing how quickly Yang was able to work her up, not when the waves of her climax wash over her, making any feeing other than bliss impossible. When she opens her eyes, Yang is smiling at her, warm and tender, and she feels like something has slotted back into place.

She can’t help the small sigh of disappointment when her wife withdraws her fingers— her orgasm was too fast to be truly fulfilling, and her body is telling her to make up for lost time. Yang takes her fingers in her mouth to clean them off, and it seems like she has the same idea, because her eyes darken to a deeper shade of purple, and then she hooks her fingers under the waistband of Blake’s underwear, tugging it down along with her trousers.

Getting the message quickly, Blake shifts back a little, sitting up against the armrest, and sure enough it only takes seconds before Yang is moving down her body, pressing burning kisses across every inch of her abdomen until Blake’s thighs are shaking and her fingers are curling with anticipation.

Yang dips between her thighs, and Blake hooks her legs over her wife’s shoulders, offering herself up in a clear invitation. Yang’s tongue is as soft and talented as she remembers, and she finally gives into the urge to pull her wife’s hair tie free so she can tangle her hands in Yang’s hair, needing a way to anchor herself as the pleasure starts to rise again.

Her wife holds her gaze the entire time, never breaking eye contact, and Blake finds it unspeakably erotic. Yang is looking up at her so attentively, so lovingly, and it's all too much. Her grip tightens on Yang's hair, and she's rewarded with a whimper when she tugs. Her heels press down on either side of her wife's spine, and her hips press forward to meet Yang's mouth as she comes undone.

“Yang. _Yang_.”

It takes her several minutes to regain some control over her limbs as her second orgasm fades, but when she can move again she tugs on Yang's hand, pulling her up so she can kiss her. Their lips meet softly, tenderly, chastely, and it feels like a reminder of every reason she asked this wonderful woman to marry her all those years ago.

A wave of love washes over her, pure and intense, and she gives in to the impulse to flip their positions, rolling Yang onto her back. She remembers a moment too late where they are, though, and all she ends up doing is tipping both of them off the sofa and onto the floor. She's almost worried for all of one second before Yang bursts out laughing, and Blake can't help but laugh too.

It's ridiculous to find it quite so funny, but she's happy—so, so happy—and she can't bring herself to care. After a few moments the desire to kiss Yang again wins out over her amusement, and she leans down to bring their mouths back together, keeping it gentle to make up for her mishap just now. The contact doesn't stay slow and cautious for long, however, as Yang makes a sound that can only be described as a whine, her hips pressing up into Blake in an attempt to find friction.

Blake feels want bubble up inside of her again at the reminder that so far she's the only one who's been satisfied, but she takes her time as she trails kisses down the column of her wife's throat, stopping to suck a mark over Yang's pulse point and drinking in the moan that she gets in return. She pulls back to admire the purple blooming against her wife's skin, and she feels pride start to swell in her chest.

No one else could get this reaction from Yang. No one else— only her. The thought has warmth spreading through her body, and she interlaces their fingers, smiling at the sight of her wife's wedding ring glinting gold.

“Tell me you want me,” she says, and Yang nods furiously.

“_Yes_. I want you so much. _Please_, baby—”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I do. I love you, Blake. Always.”

Yang's voice is calmer now, less desperate but no less sincere. It's more than enough—everything Blake needed to hear—and with her other hand she pulls the tie of Yang's sweatpants, a smooth and deliberate movement that leaves the air around them heavy with intention.

“I love you too.”

She finally lets go of Yang's hand, but only to brace herself over her wife, and then her fingers are slipping past Yang's waistband, finding where she's needed, sinking into slick heat. Yang's hands find purchase on her back, her nails digging in just a little more than usual, her moan at having Blake inside of her just a little louder, and Blake stills for a moment to appreciate the feeling of being so intimately connected again.

The sensations are all so familiar that it isn't hard for her to work Yang up—it feels almost like it's only been days since they last made love rather than weeks—and she feels her confidence rise at the proof that she's still able to push her wife's buttons so easily. She makes every thrust slow but firm, like she knows Yang prefers, and she curls her fingers occasionally to catch her off guard, seeking out the one place that will make her fall apart quicker than anything else.

“_Blake_—”

The gasp of her name lets her know she's succeeded, and when she presses her thumb to Yang's clit her wife crumbles underneath her, her breath coming in ragged pants and her arms wrapping around Blake to hold her close as she finds release. Blake gradually eases the pressure, making her touch lighter and more careful to help Yang down from her high.

For a while they just lie there, basking in each other's presence, until they become aware that the credits of the movie are now rolling on the television. Amusement is bubbling up before Blake can stop it and she smiles, feeling light and full of joy— at peace. Yang rubs slow circles on her back and she snuggles further into her, burrowing into her wife's comforting warmth.

“Well,” Yang starts. “That was a thing that happened.”

Blake lets out an undignified snort of laughter at that. “That's one way of putting it.” Her tone pitches more serious, and she leaves a kiss on the underside of Yang's jaw. “I'm not complaining, though.”

Yang presses her lips briefly to Blake's forehead in return, and then she closes her eyes and lies back, seemingly content to stay here for the foreseeable future. “Me neither.”

**Author's Note:**

> welp hope that was good, just felt like putting something out there after such a long break lol. anyway leave a comment if ya want and see y'all next time XD


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